


The Second Museum Job

by DinerGuy



Series: The Five Crossroads Jobs [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Leverage, Warehouse 13
Genre: Crossover, Gen, One Shot, Pre-Series, Short, The two times Lance Hunter met Leverage team members and lived to tell about it, and the three times he almost didnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time Lance Hunter learned that vetting clients isn’t always insurance against trouble</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Museum Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truthtakestime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthtakestime/gifts).



> All characters within belong to their respective creators (except for the random original characters that I invented). No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from anything you read here.
> 
> Betaed by the awesome DQ!
> 
> EXTRA kudos to DQ this time around, because she was also tasked with making sure I kept some characters in-character who I did not know very well. :) Warehouse 13 is on Julie's show list, but I have only seen a little bit of it (and none in a long time), so I was a tiny bit stuck trying to incorporate the agents. So very big thank you to my lovely beta for her help with that!

_‘Another day, another dollar,’_ Hunter mused to himself as he stood surveying the outside of the museum. The last time he had done a freelance job at one of these places, he had very nearly ended up imprisoned for what would have been the rest of his youth - and well past it - and he had been slightly hesitant to accept this gig. But after researching his contact and verifying this was indeed a legit operation, he had given into the allure of the paycheck and said yes.  
  
The large building was ornate in its architecture, and it appeared to have been built at least a century before he had even been born. It was exactly what most people would imagine when they thought of a historic art museum, or at least it was what he imagined. He had seen a clip of a movie once, when he was on a plane trip and happened to glance over at the tablet of the remarkably untalkative eight year old next to him. The kid had been watching some movie about a museum with a living dinosaur skeleton or something. There had been a monkey - that was admittedly rather cute - as well, but either way, the museum in that movie was very close to the museum that now loomed up in front of him.  
  
And then he hurried up the steps, taking them two at a time, and pushed through the doors into the lobby. He had been instructed on where to meet his employer and provided with a badge to get him past the security checkpoint at the entrance. Holding it up so the guards could see it, he made for the far side of the huge foyer and through the arching doorway into the first exhibit room, where he was supposed to meet his contact. After being briefed on the job - which was basically to provide security for the big shindig the museum was hosting that night and make sure no one made off with any of the highly valued pieces - he was sent out to the main room to get a lay of the land before the guests arrived.  
  
There were a number of tables set up in a large exhibition room of the museum. Sculptures sat on pedestals scattered throughout the room, and paintings hung on the walls around the perimeter. Everything looked like it was worth more than Hunter had seen in his lifetime - or ever would see, for that matter. He strolled around, familiarizing himself with everything. As long as no crazies decided to go off on everyone, this job should go fairly simply. The caterers were in full preparation mode in the kitchen, setting up trays and organizing swanky-looking hors d'oeuvres for serving. Hunter greeted everyone with a smile, studying faces as the tuxedoed waitstaff came and went.  
  
A quick glance at his watch told him the event would be starting soon, and the early arrivals should be walking through the doors any minute. He turned around to head back for the main room, nearly colliding with a tall young woman in a waitress uniform.  
  
“Oh, excuse me!” Hunter apologized, reaching out to help her keep her balance. “Are you all right?”  
  
She brushed aside a strand of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail and smiled behind her chunky black glasses. “Thanks; I’m fine,” she replied briskly. “All good.”  
  
“Good.” He nodded. “I’m Lance, by the way. Security.” He gave her his best smile.  
  
“Ah. Well, nice to meet you. I need to get back to work, so…” She tilted her head to indicate the trays of finger food that were starting to line up along the counter.  
  
Hunter cleared his throat. “Right then. I guess I should get out there too.”  
  
She smiled humorlessly before turning away and busying herself at the counter. Hunter watched her for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and spun on his heel to head out to where the first guests were trickling in. With any luck, the whole night would go without a hitch.  
  
And it did - for the first hour. The rich and famous rubbed elbows and exclaimed over the artwork on display. Hunter mainly just stood in the far corner and watched everything going on. The waitstaff made their rounds, and Hunter gladly took any food offered when they passed near his station. No one seemed up to anything suspicious, but then something caught his eye. He frowned as he focused on the woman who had attracted his attention. It wasn’t because she was beautiful, or because she filled out her dark blue dress nicely - although she did both of those things quite well - but rather because she looked very familiar…  
  
She was skillfully making her way through the crowd, and when she glanced his way, he pretended to be studying something off to the side. He kept the edge of his vision trained on her, and when she turned away again, he returned his focus to her. There was still something oddly familiar about her, even though he couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps he had seen her at a different event before?  
  
Then he paused as he realized he didn’t remember seeing her in the attendees here before that moment. There was the chance that she had arrived late, so he brushed that concern aside and accepted a bite of some fancy appetizer from a tray that passed him as the waiter carrying it rounded the side of the room where Hunter was standing. Suddenly, he stopped chewing as a thought hit him.  
  
He glanced around the room again, counting off the waiters and waitresses, then he brushed his hands off and headed for the kitchen. Glancing inside, he saw several more members of the waitstaff and the caterers, but the blonde he had run into earlier that night was nowhere to be found. Hunter frowned and walked back out into the main room, an idea turning over in his head. He searched the crowd of attendees milling about and spotted the woman in the blue dress across the room near a blue and red painting that looked like a five year old had finger painted. She turned to survey the room, then slipped through a doorway in the far wall.  
  
Hunter wasted no time in following her, wishing as soon as he stepped into the crowd that he had taken the quicker route around the edges of the room. It took him several moments to weave through the crowd, but he finally made it to the doorway. On the other side was a hallway leading towards several closed off rooms. They were most likely offices for the museum staff or possibly storage closets. At first he didn’t see the woman, but then a muffled _clang_ came from behind one of the closed doors. He stepped forward, moving towards the room from which the metallic noise had come. There was a series of soft _thump_ s, then silence, and Hunter quickly closed the rest of the distance and put his hand on the doorknob. Easing it open, he looked inside.  
  
The room was devoid of any occupants, but Hunter’s eye immediately caught on a bag lying next to the grate in the far wall, which covered part of the museum’s air vent system. It was a simple black duffel bag, but it was oddly out of place in this utility room. Hunter made his way over to inspect the bag and happened to glance at the vent as he did so. He did a double take as he realized none of the screws were flush with the vent cover. Rather, they all protruded from the wall a good centimeter or more. With a frown, Hunter leaned forward to study it further, and that was when he heard another muffled _thump_ , this time coming from within the ventilation system.  
  
“Oh, you’re kidding me,” he said aloud to no one in particular.  
  
He quickly weighed his options, frowning as he realized just how difficult it would be to predict where the woman would come out around the museum. She could drop out anywhere and be gone with whatever item she had decided to steal - because that was most likely what anyone who went to that much trouble to get into a museum was probably after - long before he tracked down her exit point. So without wasting any further time, he pulled the grate off of the hole in the wall and placed it on the floor.  
  
“Well, here goes nothing.” Hunter took a breath, then crawled into the shaft.  
  
It was surprisingly roomy for an air ventilation system. Much bigger than Hunter would have expected. He could crawl properly on his hands and knees, although, granted, he couldn’t raise his head too high without smacking it on the metal above him. He crawled forward, trying to move gently so as not to announce his presence in the vents to the woman ahead of him. After several yards, the tunnel took a sharp right, then a left, and then he came to a crossroads. Hunter paused to listen, then headed in the direction from which the _thump_ s were coming.  
  
He hurried as quickly as he could while still being quiet, and it was only a minute later that he caught up close enough to see the woman’s shoes disappearing around a corner up ahead. When he did, he paused, realizing he hadn’t worked out how he was going to question or arrest the woman while they were both inside this tunnel system. A moment later, it became a moot point, as he heard the metallic _creak_ of another cover being swung open. Then there was the sound of something heavy dropping, accompanied by a low grunt.  
  
This time, he moved forward more quickly than cautiously, and a moment later, he was looking out from a ledge several feet off of the ground. He had exited in another storage closet, this one dimly lit. He could just make out the woman’s slim shape across the room as she reached for the door knob.  
  
“Security!” he called, leaping out of the vent as neatly as he could manage. Somehow, he kept his footing, which allowed him to quickly take off after the woman as she yanked open the door and sprinted away. Hunter ran after her, noticing as he emerged from the closet that they were in a deserted area of the museum, their unfinished surroundings indicating they were in the new expansion that was in progress. The mystery woman was quicker on her feet than he had expected, and for a moment, he thought he had lost her. Then he rounded a corner after her and pulled up short.  
  
The blonde woman was standing in the middle of the hallway, glancing his way with an expression that showed she was trying to figure a way out. Hunter was still interested in who she was and what she was doing at the museum, but a large portion of his curiosity was now taken up by a suited couple on the far end of the room.  
  
He hadn’t seen them before, so he knew they weren’t with the caterers or security. It was possible they worked at the museum in some capacity, but their demeanors certainly seemed to indicate differently...  
  
The woman was tall, with curly brown hair and a stern look on her face. Her arms were crossed as she looked Hunter up and down, and her expression stated quite clearly that she was not someone with whom to be trifled. A man stood next to her, also wearing a suit but somehow looking more casual than his companion. He was slightly taller than she was, with brown hair that was slightly mussed in the front. His arms were also crossed, but a slight, impish grin played at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Hunter looked between the two, then at the mystery woman, then back at the others. “Uh, pardon me, but would someone mind telling me what’s going on here?”  
  
“Agent Myka Bering,” the woman spoke up, holding up a badge. “Secret Service. This is Agent Pete Lattimer, my partner.”  
  
That was a surprise. Hunter hadn’t expected that one. “I’m sorry… Secret Service?”  
  
The man with Bering nodded, then looked at the blonde who was still standing uncertainly between the agents and Hunter. She appeared to be trying to calculate an escape. “Ma’am, we need that necklace.”  
  
“Is that what she took?” Hunter exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow. “How’d you get to it so fast? I didn’t see you leave the party until when you got through the vents.”  
  
The woman grinned proudly. “That’s because I’m good at what I do.” Then she frowned in the agents’ direction. “But who says I have to give it up?” she pouted, crossing her arms. “I stole it fair and square; they should have locked it up better.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry,” Lattimer said, holding out a hand. Hunter noticed it was gloved, then his eye caught on a strange bag that seemed to be made out of foil in the man’s other hand before Lattimer tucked it behind his back. “We’re going to need it from you.”  
  
“Uh, you mean, _I_ ’m going to need it,” Hunter corrected. He stepped forward. “I don’t know what the Secret Service are doing here, but I’m working security here tonight.”  
  
The mystery woman reached into her pocket and drew out an ornate necklace. Blue, red, white, and green jewels practically dripped from the thick silver chain as she held it up. “Is this the necklace you mean?” she asked. Before any of the three had a chance to respond, she threw the piece of jewelry up in the air. She had aimed it just slightly in the agents’ direction, and they immediately moved for it. Taking her chance, she slipped past them and darted down the hallway.  
  
Hunter started after her, then paused as she hit the crash bar on the exit door. His job - or his neck, for that matter - was on the line if that necklace disappeared, and the quick situational analysis he had just run in his head told him to take care of the stolen piece of an exhibit first. It looked expensive, so he should probably secure it over anything else.  
  
He turned back to the others just as Lattimer sealed the foil bag with a flourish. Curiously, there was an electric _zap_ ping sound and a flash of light as he did so. Hunter frowned at the bag, then he turned his frown on both of the agents.  
  
“Would either of you mind explaining what is going on? And handing over that necklace?” He crossed his arms. “Unless you’re not really Secret Service…” He trailed off, letting the accusation hang in the air.  
  
“Oh, we’re Secret Service all right,” Lattimer scoffed.  
  
Bering interrupted whatever else he was about to say. “We’ve cleared things with the museum already. In fact, we were on our way to collect this item from the exhibit just now.” She handed him an official-looking letter. “See? Permission granted.”  
  
“Did you know it had been stolen?” Hunter asked. “Because it seemed like -”  
  
“Everything is under control, Mr. Hunter.” Bering interrupted, smiling sweetly - although Hunter was also fairly certain she could kill him without batting an eye if she wanted. “Now, don’t you have a job to do? That event isn’t going to secure itself.”  
  
Hunter paused, examining the letter he had been handed, and in that moment, both agents turned and headed for the exit door. He followed, but by the time he reached the door, their dark SUV was already pulling out of the lot. After a moment’s pause, he shrugged and turned back into the museum. He tucked the letter into his pocket and started back towards the main room where the party would still be in full swing. If any questions were raised later, he could produce the letter. In the meantime, he made a mental note to research the Secret Service and their strange foil bags. There was apparently more to the Secret Service department than he had thought.


End file.
